As normal as a Mudblood could be
by SJRivera
Summary: Everyone here remembers Dudley Dursley. I'm sure you all do. But it was never discussed on what happened after The Seven Potters. Well, Dudley grew up, got married, and moved into Little Whinging with his family... And his daughter is a Mudblood.
1. Chapter 1: Perfectly Normal

Perfectly Normal, Thank You Very Much

Dudley Dursley was, very simply, one of the most average men you could ever meet. He lived in an English suburb in Little Whinging, Surry, at number Four, Privet Drive. He, along with his cousin, had grown up here. He had a beautiful wife, and three children; two girls and a boy. In fact, if one looked at his life at a glance, he wouldn't have stood out at all. There was only one thing on his life people would think _un-_ordinary… and that would be his cousin, Harry Potter. Harry, as opposed to Dudley, was as unusual to 'normal people' as one could possibly get. Harry Potter was a wizard.

But to Dudley Dursley and his wife, Angela, Harry Potter is just another relative. He and his family usually came around at Easter, and on Christmas, Mr. Dursley packed up his family to visit the one Harry married into: the Weasleys. As for his children, Iantha, Azalea, and Murdoch, they knew nothing of magic. That, however, was a very difficult secret to keep from them. Why? There is only one reason for that; Harry's children and their cousins looked like their magic abilities were coming in just as strong. Weird things kept happening around them.

Yes, their family was only half normal, but Dudley and his cousin had a stronger bond then they used to. But there was _one _other thing that Mr. Dursley constantly worried about: his daughter, Iantha.

Iantha was the eldest, and, unlike her siblings, took after her mother. Her air was long and fluffily tangled. Her hair was very thick, and she used a black headband in a futile attempt to keep it out of the way. She had bangs, too, and they were in a constant need of a trimming. She was a ginger, and as such, had all of the quirks that came with it. Innumerous freckles covering ivory skin, startlingly bright green eyes, and, what was the other thing?

Oh, yes, I remember now.

Iantha has the ability to perform magic.


	2. Chapter 2: Inked In Green

Inked in Green

Iantha chewed her Cheerios thoughtfully, listening to the bacon on the stove sizzle. It was July seventeenth, a perfectly ordinary day; it was drizzling, and her younger brother, who was eight, was in the living room, watching cartoons on the tele. Her father came into the room, kissed her on top of her head and sat down in his seat at the head of the table. Her sister, a bespectacled, cheerful six-year-old, was noisily chewing on a plate of waffles.

Around half an hour later, the sound of the mail slot opening and closing was heard from the entryway. "Get the mail, Azalea," Dudley said absently, much to his daughter's dismay.

"Make Murdo do it!" she whined, and to be sure she didn't continue, he turned to his son.

"Get the mail, Murdoch."

"I got it yesterday. Make Iantha do it."

"Iantha? Please?"

She sighed, wiped the syrup off her cheek-she had succumbed to the tastiness of waffles-and stood, exiting the kitchen. Making her way down the hallway, whistling tunelessly, she knelt and picked up the stack of mail on the ground. She shuffled through the letters; there were four: a postcard from her grandmother, something that looked like a bill, a library note addressed to her mother, and—a letter for… _Iantha_?

She stared at it. Who on earth would write to _her? _The only person she could think of was her cousin, Lily, who was also eleven like her, but her family had trained owls that delivered mail. And Lily didn't write like this….

_Ms. I Dursley_

_ The smallest bedroom,_

_ 4 Privet Drive_

_ Little Whinging_

_ Surry_

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of a yellowish parchment, and addressed in emerald green ink. There was no stamp. She turned the envelope over in her hands. It had a purple wax seal emblazoned with a coat of arms; a badger, a snake, a raven, and a lion, surrounding a large letter H.

"Is there something wrong, Iantha?" She started. She had forgotten her parents were expecting her. But something held her back. There was something telling her this letter was extremely important. And Iantha wanted to open this letter alone, in the seclusion of her room. Not knowing why, she slipped the letter into the cupboard that was nestled under the stairs before returning to the kitchen and handing the other letters to her dad. "Thanks."

Her mother looked at her, a delicate eyebrow arched. It was as if she were asking what had taken her so long. In response, Iantha shrugged and resumed her breakfast. But she wasn't very hungry anymore.

While this family is settled down together, I will take a moment to describe the Dursleys. Why? Because some people insist they want to know what the characters _look_ like. Mr. Dursley was a large man with thick blonde hair. He had, over the years, managed to get rid of all of his excess fat, and replace it with muscle. He had blue eyes, somewhat small though they were, and a clean-shaven face. Angela Dursley was a petite woman; she was thin, but not unhealthy-looking. She, too, had thick red hair, but she kept it short, about to her shoulders. Her eyes were a large, friendly brown. Murdoch was eight, and had blonde hair like his father, and was built the same way. His eyes were brown, like his mother's. Azalea was six, had a syrup stain on her pink shirt, and she insisted on doing her own hair-usually pulled, rather clumsily, into at least two pigtails. Sometimes four. Hers was brown-no doubt having gotten it from her grandmother (on her mother's side) and had the large eyes her mother had, in blue, and hidden by rather thick glasses.

"May I be excused?"

Dudley nodded at her, reading the postcard his mother had sent, eyebrows knitted together. Iantha scurried out of the room, retrieved her letter, and rushed to her room. She had the smallest bedroom in the house, but at least got it to herself. Her siblings shared a room, as did her parents, leaving a spare for when they had guests. There was, for some reason, a cat-flap installed into her door, and that was the main reason Ivy-their cat-liked her best. The cat was on her bed when she entered the room, and the door was closed and locked after the redhead had come in. Iantha sank onto her bed, giving the cat an absent stroke.

She broke the seal on the envelope with trembling hands, and pulled out the first piece of parchment she touched. It was made of the same heavy paper, and it, too, was written in green.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall

Dear Ms. Dursley,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1st. we await your owl by no later than July 31st.

Yours Sincerely,

Neville Longbottom,

_Deputy Headmaster_

_ Await my owl? Witchcraft? Who are these people? How do they—_Iantha was jerked from her thoughts by an owl tapping on her window.

I got the signature from .com/wiki/File:Neville_Longbottom_.


	3. Chapter 3: Family Values

Family Values

Iantha ran to her window, opening it enough for the snowy owl to enter, getting droplets of water all over her desk. Brushing them off, she quickly untied the letter attached to the owl's leg. Harry had, very cleverly, put it into a Ziploc to keep out water. The letter was addressed to her father, and Iantha hesitated for a moment before slitting it open anyway. It was from Harry for sure.

_Dudley;_

_ Lily got her letter last night. I can't tell you how proud we are. As you know, we'll be there at around noon today; hope you have plenty of food, because Hugo is coming with us. He got his letter a few days ago and is ecstatic. I swear, I'm not sure we can keep this secret from your children very long. They're bound to find out soon._

_ Well, I suppose there isn't much else to say at this point, so see you, Big D._

_ ~Harry_

Iantha stared at the letter and felt it falling into place. Her cousins, magic, the owl… Then a grin split her face as she let out a squeal. She'd been right. Magic _did _exist! She silently danced around her room in a fit of joy, and hugged her cat. Then she sank on her bed. They thought _she _was magic? That made little sense. She just… she couldn't be magic. It was impossible. She couldn't pick up a stick, wave it, and expect a rabbit to pop out of a top hat. She frowned, and glanced at the owl fluffing up to dry itself off. And the letter? Did that mean Lily and Hugo got one like she did?

She glanced at the clock on her dresser. It was an hour slow, and read 1:57. Ginny was punctual, and that meant they'd be here soon. As if they were aware of her thoughts, the doorbell rang downstairs. She stuffed the letter under her pillow and ran down the stairs. She reached the door first, and pulled it open.

"Hello Iantha."

"Hello Ginny."

"Hi Antha."

"'Lo Lily."

Harry spoke up. "Did Dudley get my owl?"

"No, she must not have gotten here yet." It was likely. The Potters lived in London, and though Iantha had never visited their house, she knew that the owl could easily have gotten here after they did. Her father entered the parlor.

"Harry. How are you doing?"

Harry glanced at Lily as the family- James, Ginny, Albus, Hugo, Lily and himself- filed into the house. "She got a letter yesterday."

Dudley grinned and led Harry into the kitchen along with Ginny. The kids were left in the living room. James crashed on the couch and stole the remote from Murdoch, flipping through the channels. Albus stuck up a conversation with the disappointed eight year old. Azalea continued playing with her rag doll. Lily turned to Iantha.

"What's up?"

"Not much… I'll be right back, I've gotta, er… go to the bathroom."

Lily frowned. Her cousin wasn't telling her something. She watched the redhead scurry up the stairs, and sighed. Something was up.

Iantha returned some minutes later, clutching a piece of crumpled paper. Then she entered the kitchen.


	4. Chapter 4: You're A What?

**It's short, I know, but the plot's gotta move along **_**somehow.**_

You're a What?

Iantha entered the kitchen, terrified about what their reactions would be. What her father would say. She'd be disowned for sure. She was nervous, and confused. Nothing, in all the years of her life, had made her believe that she could do magic.

Ginny looked up when the door opened. The kids never interrupted unless it was a real emergency. "Iantha? What is it?"

She placed the letter on the table. "This was in the mail this morning." The four adults just stared at it, not saying anything for the longest time. It was Ginny who spoke first.

"So you were accepted?"

"You knew?"

"I had a hunch."

"I don't think it's right… I mean… I can't do magic."

Harry chuckled. He'd gotten over the initial shock of the matter. "Not a witch? You sure? As a certain gamekeeper once said, 'you never made anything happen when you were scared, or angry?"

Iantha cocked an eyebrow at him. Never… made anything happen? She thought about it. Then she figured it out. Well, in kindergarten, when Sophia, a girl who went to her school, had poured chocolate milk on Iantha's head, _her_ hair had changed green during naptime. Sophia blamed Iantha, who was sent to the principal's office, but Sophia's hair was still green today. And another time… at girl scouts… there was a bear in the food… and somehow its jaws had been molded shut with syrup.

"W-well…."

Harry smiled at her, and then turned to his cousin. "Dudley? What do you think?"

"I…I'm not…"

Angela cut in. "She's going. I had no idea that this sort of thing would happen. But what I've heard about Hogwarts… She's definitely going."

Dudley seemed to find the words he was searching for. "Well… Harry saved my life once… using magic…"

"I've told you before, D; it's your soul they would've got."

"Same difference, magic… it's useful… and I think I would love it if you learned magic. Just… don't tell Grandpa Dursley."


	5. Chapter 5:Diagon Alley, Apples, and an U

**Dear people of the world: Rosemary is not my character; she exists because my friend-who hasn't posted the story yet-didn't want Fred to go. And I didn't either, so I went with it.**

**~SJR**

Diagon Alley, Apples, and an Unusual Platform

Iantha shifted from foot to foot as her family read the letter. "You'll need the essentials, of course; we were actually going shopping for Lily's stuff this afternoon, that's why Hugo's with us. You're welcome to come," Ginny said warmly. "That is," she turned to Iantha's father before continuing, "if you'd let us take her for you?"

"I-okay. If Iantha's fine with it." He looked towards his daughter, who, in turn, was looking at war with herself. Half of her felt like vomiting, but the other was excited. This was her chance, her only chance for something exciting to happen in her life.

"Yes! Yes, I want to go! Of course! Do… do I get a wand and everything?"

Harry chuckled, "Of course. But first to Gringotts, wizard bank."

The car ride from Privet Drive to London was extra-long to Iantha. She wanted to see more, to drink in the wonder that was magic. Unusually quiet, she bounced up and down slightly in the backseat, sitting between Lily and Hugo. (James and Albus had opted out of going.) After what felt like forever, Harry stopped, parking the car in front of a bookshop. The three eleven-year-olds tumbled out of the car, and Iantha looked around, a bit disappointed. This didn't look magic.

"Is this the place?" she asked Lily.

"The bookshop? No. But that is." She pointed to a small, grubby looking pub Iantha hadn't noticed. In fact, nobody else had noticed it either. It seemed only they could see it. Harry led the way into the small building. "This is the Leaky Cauldron, Iantha. It's famous."

"This place?" She frowned as she entered. It smelled like pumpkins, nutmeg, and loads more spices she couldn't identify. Though the bartender greeted him, Harry only returned it, heading instead to the back of the shop, leading the group into the small, bricked up alleyway behind the pub.

"Watch carefully, all of you. Once you get your wands, each of you will be doing this." He pulled out his own, and tapped a brick in the wall. The brick he had touched quivered – it wriggled – in the middle, a small hole appeared – it grew wider and wider – a second later they were facing an archway on to a cobbled street which twisted and turned out of sight... Iantha felt her jaw drop. Here, finally, was the magic she'd been craving. As they walked, with her 'uncle' leading the way, she wished they would slow down. She'd never seen this many people crammed into one place. At least, not with all of the people getting along happily.

She walked slower than the others, trying to take it all in, and nearly lost them. Spotting Ginny's Weasley hair in the crowd, she ran to catch up, still ogling at all the buildings and people. It seemed people were staring at Harry and his children, and a path cleared for them easily, but no one paid Iantha the slightest bit of attention. She scurried along after them, trying to see everything else at the same time.

And then she stopped, staring into the windows of a shop filled with animals. Cats, rats, toads, even an ancient turtle with a jewel-encrusted shell. She stared for much longer than necessary, and then began to reluctantly walk away, back after the Potters… But she couldn't find them.

Oh, no.

That's when the panic set in.

She began to run; from shop to shop she went, looking for the Potters. After fifteen minutes of searching, she flopped down onto the steps of a store, hopelessly lost, and hungry by now, too. Very hungry. She didn't feel like crying, no, she was too old for that, but still, she put her head in her hands, thinking about what her father would do to her when she got home... _If _she got home.

She didn't know how long she sat there before a shadow crossed over her. But she didn't look up until an enormous hand rested on her head. "Hey."

Her head jerked up to see who had spoken to her. He was a man, the largest man she had ever seen, dressed in a huge overcoat covered in pockets. He looked concerned. "Are yeh okay?"

She gulped. "I-I… I don't know."

"Well, why don' yeh know?"

"I—I lost my cousins. I was here, with them… but I can't find them."

"What's yer name?"

"I'm Iantha. Iantha Dursley."

The huge man stared at her in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

"Fairly certain. Why?"

"I am Rubeus Hagrid. Just call me Hagrid, everyone does. I'm the keeper of the keys and games at Hogwarts. I also left Harry Potter on the doorstep of the Dursley's, over thirty years ago."

"Really?"

"Yes… and the Dursleys are the biggest lot o' Muggles I ever laid eyes on. Yeh can't be related, can yeh?"

"Well, yes, sir, I am. It's Harry Potter and his family I'm with now… Can you help me find them?"

Hagrid blinked, taken aback. But he nodded, and after he helped her up, began to lead her to Gringotts, the likeliest place to start. "C'mon, then, best start lookin' 'ere." He led her to a huge marble building; it towered above the others, and had battered bronze doors. These opened, and beyond them were yet another pair of doors, these silver, and with writing on them. Iantha paused for a moment to read them.

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn_

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there_

Iantha blinked, confused. "Hagrid?"

"Yeh'd be mad to try an' rob it," he said simply, then continued into the large marble hall.

"Hagrid?"

"Hm?"

"I only have Muggle money." The word felt unfamiliar on her tongue.

"We'll get yeh straightened out, don' yeh worry. An' if we can't find Harry, I'll leave yeh to yer shoppin', if yeh'd like, while I look for him. It's perfectly safe," he added, seeing the troubled expression on her face. "Diagon Alley is one of the friendliest places to be nowadays."

A few hours later, Iantha was laden down with countless objects she needed, everything but a wand and the Potters. Hagrid had disappeared ages ago, and Iantha had made her way through Diagon Alley by herself, ignored by everyone.

She found herself in front of a dark building, filled with hooting noises. Hesitantly, she entered and was met by hundreds of pairs of eyes. Owls lined the walls, and the young witch's hand went to her pocket. She _did _have some pocket money she had been saving up….

A tiny Scops owl hooted out at everything when she exited the shop some ten minutes later. He hadn't been very expensive; his breed wasn't selling well. She wandered around aimlessly for awhile, stopping only to buy an ice cream cone from Florean Fortesque's.

It wasn't until she passed Gringotts again that Iantha saw the shop again. It was called Magical Menagerie. She paused, staring into the window. The letter never said how _many _pets she could have… did it? And it never said the pets were _limited _to cats, owls, and toads… after all, hadn't Uncle Ron had a rat when he first went to Hogwarts? And Albus had a ferret…. She paused for a moment, finally making her decision, and entered the menagerie.

"Holy cricket…" the shop was filled with noises; squeaks, chirps, mewling, and hissing met Iantha's ears as she entered the darkened shop. She felt her owl nestle into her hair-most likely afraid of the snakes-when she looked at the animals on display. Each was in a cage or small tank, and each looked like it was begging her to take it home. She'd have to choose carefully. Though she still had around twenty galleons of her allowance left, she knew her dad wouldn't be very happy if she brought home the whole shop, and some of these pets _definitely _wouldn't be allowed in her house. A paw shot out of a wicker basket, batting her on the nose, followed by pitiful mewling. Iantha peered through the basket at a kitten; he was fluffy, orange, and white. Carefully, she picked it up, and undid the latch in order to see him better. He was very young, but still rather big. She knew instantly that he was a Maine Coon, an American breed, and that the look he was giving her would be burned into her memory forever if she didn't take him home. He mewled again, and Iantha's last shred of defense melted. Ivy would probably be furious with her, but the eleven-year-old tucked the wicker basket under her arm and continued through the shop.

She reached the counter with the wicker basket. The witch behind the counter looked bemused. "A cat?" She asked, but nonetheless rang her up.

"Yes, ma'am. How much?" She gestured to the kitten in its basket.

"Six galleons. Will that be all for you?"

"Yes, ma'am, thank you!" she handed over the gold and left the shop, beginning to waltz around again. The owl she had bought earlier was for her brother, and the cat was for her.

"Iantha!" She turned when she heard Ginny's voice, and was approached by the Potters. "You're alright?"

"Of course, Ginny… I've finished my shopping, and I even got a few pets! All I need now is a—"

"Wand? Yes, that's where we're headed too; Ollivander's, the best place to get a wand in Britain."

Ginny led the way into the large, dusty shop, and an old man and presumably his son greeted them. Mr. Ollivander looked at Harry, then to Ginny, and finally at the three children with them. His gaze seemed to rest on Iantha for a split second longer than the other two, before he spoke. "Mr. Potter. I knew you'd be back soon with your daughter, and naturally your nephew… but I was… not expecting to see a third. You are?"

Iantha gulped, wishing those large grey eyes would blink. "I-I'm Iantha. Iantha Dursley."

"Hm... Very good." He turned to Hugo. "Eldest first. Your wand arm." Hesitantly, Hugo extended his arm, and the wandmaker began to measure, his son doing the same to Lily. About an hour later, two of the eleven year olds stood, wands in hands, grinning broadly. They were making such a racket that Harry volunteered to take them for ice cream, leaving Iantha with Ginny. Ollivander turned to the small girl.

"Now you. Wand arm out, please." Iantha gulped, but extended her left hand. "You are left handed?"

"Yes, sir." He made a 'hm'-ing sound but let the tape measure her. "That will do," he said, and the measure fell to the floor. "Wands," he began, retreating into the shop. "Seem to prefer wizards and witches who use their right hands." He selected a box and came back into view. "But there are a select few," he removed the wand from its box, and continued, "that seem to only work for ones who use their left." He handed her a wand, spitting out a description. She took in from him, just to have it snatched back. "No, no, not her." He came back with another. Again, Iantha took it, to have it taken away again. A third was given to her. "Here we are, Elm, phoenix feather, thirteen inches, try….?" Iantha tried. And she tried, and tried again. It felt like she had gone through every wand in the store before he gave her the one. "Apple with dragon heartstring. Twelve and a half inches. Surprisingly swishy. An odd sort of wood I hardly use, and very controversial with its core… nonetheless, try."

She took it, and felt an odd sensation. It was as if she had just swallowed a glassful of hot cider; scalding hot, then icy cool throughout her fingertips. She waved the wand, and a shower of flower petals leaked from the end. Ollivander smiled. "Looks like we found a match."

"Platform nine and three-quarters?" Iantha asked, staring at the blank stretch of wall in front of her. "This doesn't seem possible." James rolled his eyes and ran through the wall, followed closely by his brother and father. Ginny went next, and Iantha found herself looking at Lily, slightly terrified. "Together?"

"Let's."

The wheeled their carts around and walked forward, gathering speed. They were going to crash, and Iantha closed her eyes, awaiting the impact, but none came. Both she and Lily were racing along next to a scarlet steam engine. Lily grinned at her, and then began to walk off to find her mother whilst Iantha followed silently.

Iantha was separated from the Potters and Weasleys as soon as she entered the train. Again. She sighed and walked through the already moving train, looking for an empty compartment. She finally found one in the last car; only one girl was sitting in it. She was sitting by herself at the end of the car - a lone girl with raspberry hair tied back, with a few strands framing her freckled face. She was gazing out of the window and muttering to herself, with a distant look in her eyes. A large, very long-bodied Maine coon lay stretched across her knees, and she absentmindedly stroked its back with her hand as she continued muttering. Her seat was littered with chocolate frog wrappers, and a small note rested next to her. She didn't notice when Iantha walked in, until the cat meowed at her direction. Then the girl looked up.

"Oh, hullo there, I didn't see you," she said, but her voice still seemed a bit dreamy.


	6. Chapter 6:A Train Ride and Houses

**Sorry to mention Rosemary last update. Wrong chapter… heh heh… oopsie? Anyhoo, long story short, she's Lily's daughter, and ends up the reason Fred is still alive. I'd elaborate, but I can't without ruining the story… though every time I watch Fred die in the movie, I just think _Dear Fred, _and I feel better! :3 Sevva is Rosemary's daughter (though they might not make it into this chapter, either), ergo related to Iantha (distantly) but had never really met her…. So, enjoy! Reviews are love. **

A Train Ride, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin

Iantha sat down in front of the reddish-purple haired girl. Smiling, she opened the whicker basket and her kitten scrambled out. He hadn't grown in the past few weeks; he was still the size of a guinea pig. The girl sitting across from her reached out and scratched his ears before looking up and taking Iantha in. "Hullo," she said again, voice free of mist, and seeming to actually realize Iantha was there.

"Hi," Iantha replied shyly, busying herself with the latch on the denim bag on her shoulder.

The other girl seemed confused. "How many pets have you got?"

"Just two," Iantha said, fishing her rat out of it. "This here is Cinnamon." She held up the sleepy rat to show her. "And _his," _She gestured to the kitten resting on her knees, "name is Asimov." She leaned forward, lowering he voice to a whisper. "He's my favorite."

The girl across from her laughed, and Iantha stroked the long fur of the older Maine Coon. "What's her name?"

"Jynx," the girl replied, still grinning. She struck Iantha as a happy sort of person, and the ginger deemed that she liked this raspberry-haired girl sitting across from her.

"What book is that?"

"Which book?"

"That one," she said, pointing at the corner of a book slightly sticking out from under the cat.

"Oh…" She pulled out the book, and Jynx mowed. "It's called Skulduggery Pleasant... I got it a few weeks ago for my birthday."

"And?"

"It's about magic." The girl's eyes lit up. "Would you like to hear the story?"

"Sure..."

And just like that, the quiet girl was off, talking nonstop about the adventures of Stephanie and the skeleton detective Skulduggery. She gushed about the spells, the action, and her favorite character, a woman named Tanith Low. She was still going when the door to the compartment opened, and a happy-looking witch stuck her head in. "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

The girls looked at each other before standing quickly, and rushing to see what food there was. Iantha found her mouth watering at the odd assortment of sweets. Not knowing what any of the stuff was, she took a bit of everything, and dumped them onto an empty seat. She picked up a box labeled 'Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans'. "Do you think they…really _are_ every flavor?"

"No telling… this is magic…"

Hesitantly, she opened the box and popped a brownish-gold colored one into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "This tastes like waffles, with syrup and everything!"

"Really?" The other girl took a yellow one, and a disgusted look crossed her face. "This tastes like piss."

"You have experience with that?"

"Shut up!" They continued on for awhile, eating the beans, frogs, pasties and all of the other assorted sweets. After awhile, when they were changing into their Hogwarts robes, the note that the girl had left on the seat fell to the floor, and Iantha picked it up, handing it back to her. "What's this?"

"Hm? Oh, it's a letter my mum sent me." She opened it and read it aloud. "_I love you_."

"That's it?"

"That's all, and it's all I need - truth. That's the only true thing I know right now, that my mum loves me, because I never knew or believed that magic existed until I turned my aunt's hair blue two weeks ago."

"Wow... so you're a Muggle-born, too?"

"Muggle-born... that means both parents can't use magic."

"Yes."

"Then I don't know. My mum left my father shortly after I was born, and I've never seen or heard from him in my life. Mum didn't want to talk about him - just called him a liar."

"Hmm... I've always believed in magic. But I never told anyone..."

"I believed it could happen in another world, another time, to somebody else. But not here... not now... not... me..." She shook her head. "Sorry... worried about my mum."

"That's alright." Iantha smiled at her, about to say more, when a voice said over an… intercom? "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately."

"Do pets count as luggage?" Iantha asked the girl she'd been talking to.

"Beats me…" She replied, coaxing Jynx into her own basket. She latched it shut then straitened up, as if remembering something. "I forgot! My name's Nettie Rosamund."

"Iantha. Iantha Dursley." She grinned at her new friend, locking Asimov in his cage, but leaving Cinnamon asleep in her pocket. "Come on, then, Nettie, we're about to be witches."

They left the train, wands in pockets and were greeted by a loud voice, booming over the heads of the students. "Firs' years! Firs' years this way!"

Iantha felt Nettie tense beside her at the sight of Hagrid. The redhead, however, knew that he wasn't what he seemed and followed him, Nettie, somewhat reluctantly, following her. Hagrid led them to a large lake, covered in small in boats. "No more 'n four to a boat!"

Iantha and Nettie were joined in theirs by Lily and Hugo. "Antha, where'd you disappear to?"

"Last car. This is Nettie."

"Nice to meet you."

The first years filed into the Great Hall, standing much closer to each other than they normally would. Professor Longbottom-he had already given the new students a welcome speech- silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the school. On top of the stool he put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty, and as he walked some steps away, a rip near the brim opened wide, like a mouth, and began to sing.

_Dear friends of sorts_

_Dear students of 'Warts_

_Welcome and good evening._

_I'm sorry I must sing my song,_

_Your time I think I'm stealing._

_But lucky for you, it isn't long;_

_Sit back dear children,_

_Listen._

_For I am he who tells_

_The one who Sorts you into place_

_Wave your wands, and cast your spells,_

_Sink into the warm embrace_

_I'm the one who finds the link…_

_Who knows what it is you think_

_Hear my song, children_

_Listen._

_I'll Sort you in where you belong,_

_Pick you out from among the crowd_

_Up to my stool you'll come along,_

_Then I'll shout your house out loud_

_Houses, there are four,_

_Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor!_

_Come on, Children,_

_Listen_

_Gryffindor: his challenge set_

_But he holds no threat_

_Just wants to test your nerve;_

_How you'd answer certain foes_

_If you'll get his fine reserve_

_I am the only 'alive' one who knows_

_Gryffindor, brave children,_

_Listen_

_Hufflepuff: she loves them all;_

_Wants each one fairly treated_

_And if your spirits happen to fall,_

_Don't let them be depleted_

_Anyone who wants to learn,_

_She'll take you, all in turn_

_Hufflepuff, sweet children_

_Listen_

_Ravenclaw: Her heart is seeking_

_Just those children who aren't much into speaking_

_It's your minds she craves_

_Be the best thinker:_

_Be the one who rants and raves_

_The one who is a tinker _

_Ravenclaw, studious children_

_Listen_

_Slytherin, seeks the pure_

_Only the ones who know for sure:_

_Though many assume they are vile,_

_Some are known to be trusted_

_But beware, please don't beguile,_

_Or you face could be readjusted_

_Slytherin, my children_

_Listen_

_You've heard their preferences_

_Now think about your differences,_

_Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Ravenclaw,_

_Which one will be selected?_

_What I speak, it is the law;_

_So hope your minds are perfected._

With that, the hat fell silent, and then echoed with clapping. Iantha turned to Nettie, fear etched upon her face. None of these sounded like her; she just felt sick. Professor Longbottom walked back toward the hat, picking it up by its brim and unrolling a long list.

He began to call out names. "Bailey, Alex." A boy with dark black hair and a sour look on his face approached the stool, sat on it, and waited.

"SLYTHERIN!" The hat roared, and the boy walked towards his new house table. This continued for awhile, one was a Hufflepuff, one Ravenclaw, the others Gryffindor and Slytherin. Then—"Dursley, Iantha!"

She froze, unable to breathe, and didn't move until Nettie poked her in the back. She moved towards the stool, and sat on it. Longbottom lowered the hat onto her head. It was much too big; it slipped down past her eyes, so it was dark, and for a moment, quiet. Then a small voice spoke in her ear.

_Iantha Dursley…Hm… you're cunning, and can, due to past experiences, think on your feet. You're brave enough, but Gryffindor isn't where I think you belong so, then… _RAVENCLAW!"


	7. Chapter 7: Stinging Nettle

**Hello again! It's me, SJ! ****As if you expected anyone else to write this…. ****Anyhoo, this chapter is completely and totally about Nettie. (Who, by the way, belongs to my friend Esmara…) Sorry for the delay, guys, but writers block is evil. It is also very short, but I didn't know what else to do… Whelp, that's pretty much it, so now I give you the story.**

Stinging Nettle

Nettie could feel the sweat gathering on her palms. She had watched student after student place the hat on their head and be sorted. Some people, like Iantha's cousin Lily, had taken seconds to place, while others, like a brown-haired boy, waited for almost a full minute before being placed in his house. Nettie was bouncing on the balls of her feet for a moment before the man (his name had slipped her mind) called out "Rosamund, Nettie."

Trembling slightly, she made her way toward the stool and sat on it. The frayed, mouldy-smelling hat was lowered onto her head, and she found herself staring into blackness.

A voice spoke to her, and she jumped, looking around before realizing the hat was talking to her. _Nettie Rosamund, eh? Gads, you read a lot… not too shabby when it comes to the bravery pool either… distractible, imaginative, and sweet by nature… Hufflepuff, perhaps? No, I think…_RAVENCLAW! The last word was shouted out across the hall, and Nettie felt herself sigh in relief as she joined her friend at the Ravenclaw's table. The names went on-Lily and Hugo having both been sorted into Gryffindor at the [pardon the expression] drop of a hat-until one last boy was sorted into Hufflepuff.

Nettie looked around the Hall again as the Headmistress gave a speech. There was a man, standing in the corner near the table where the professors were seated. He was very tall, though nowhere near the size of Hagrid, and had rust-red hair. He was dressed in simple brown robes, and was watching Professor McGonagall as if he'd heard the speech a hundred times. He looked to be in his mid-forties.

An elbow in the ribs from Iantha snapped Nettie back into focus. Food had suddenly filled the table, and ghosts had flooded the halls. "Where did this come from?"

"Weren't you listening?"

"Not really."

"The feast has started."

"Oh…"


End file.
